


2-4-6-Ate

by emissaryofrainbows, satans_basement



Category: Original Work
Genre: Burping, Digestion, F/M, Farting, Gross, Masturbation, Scat, Stink, Vore, disposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 05:05:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19660411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emissaryofrainbows/pseuds/emissaryofrainbows, https://archiveofourown.org/users/satans_basement/pseuds/satans_basement
Summary: This story is about Chris, a young adult in his final days of high school who, despite being rather cute, has an off-putting personality and a real vindictive streak.After one of the school’s cheerleaders rejects his affections, it pushes him over the edge, and he decides to get revenge on her by devouring her in front of everyone during the big game. How will he accomplish this? Well, Chris just happens to be the school mascot, so he stuffs her into her suit and then devours her without anyone noticing! Unfortunately, an enclosed suit means that there isn’t anywhere for the resulting gas that comes from churning up his victim to go, and his costume turns into a hot-box of his own stink.





	2-4-6-Ate

Chris had been a bit of a problematic person since he was very young, and he only seemed to get worse as time went on. He had a vindictive streak, unleashing cruel practical jokes on anyone he perceived as having slighted him.

Now that Chris was an adult, and a high school senior, mere pranks were no longer suitable vehicles for his vengeance. He’d graduated to bigger, better, nastier things.

Chris had black hair, and a slumped posture and dark eyes that made him look perpetually tired. He had a slightly gothic look to him, but without putting any effort into makeup or wardrobe. He was undoubtedly handsome, slightly feminine both facially and bodily, with especially soft lips and hips with a generous amount of girth to them.However, he gave off such uncomfortable vibes as to negate the positive effects of his physical attractiveness completely.

He walked down the halls of his school, hands deep in the pockets of his denim pants, scanning the crowd of other students. The bell had just rung, and everyone was rushing to the field to watch the big game.

Ah, there she was. Chris spotted Veronica walking down the hallway in a clump of her fellow cheerleaders. She was recognizable instantly by her gorgeous mane of curly red hair.

“Hey, have fun at the game! I can’t wait to see you there!” Veronica said as she passed him, flashing him a white-toothed smile.

Oh, she was going to pay. Chris made his way to the locker room, passing jocks in various states of undress, until he reached his locker. He entered the combination, opened it up, and took out the large mascot uniform inside. Chris had earned his position as the school’s mascot, and so he gazed down at the cartoonish felt crocodile with pride.

She was going to pay.

While Chris normally held ill will towards his classmates and peers, Veronica was the one student that caught his eye during the beginning of the school year; she was pretty, athletic, smart, and kind to each and every one of her classmates, with Chris naturally being one of those students.

Although the term ‘the object of his affection’ may have been a bit too much, one could say he found her intriguing. Of course, he never bothered to talk with her or get to know her as he opted to admire her from afar instead. There was a certain bitterness in his heart that only swelled with every instance he witnessed her talking to her fellow cheerleaders - or anyone that wasn’t him, really.

He had been preparing for this moment for a while now. From the very moment the big game was announced over the speakers, he planned his course of action from within the depths of his mind; earning the title as the school mascot was only step one.

With not another moment of hesitation, he began to slide out of his attire save for his boxers, as he was aware of just how stuffy and humid the inside of the costume could be. He effortlessly slipped into the baggy felt suit, tugging it upwards to encase his legs and hips. Upon ushering his arms into the remaining holes, he grasped the hollow mascot head and lowered it over his head.

Immediately, the smell of unwashed sweat assaulted his nostrils (no doubt issued by years of use along with very little maintenance or washing) but he paid no next to no mind to it. With that out of the way, all that was left for him to do was make his way towards the scene of the big game; while his movements were clumsy due to his limited vision, moving to the field wasn’t much of an issue.

He quickly adjusted himself to the mesh eye holes of his suit. He still had trouble maneuvering himself, lurching unnaturally or swaying from side to side as he walked. The players all marched towards the center of the field. Chris, meanwhile, was taken to a small area just outside the field, away from the gaze of the people in the bleachers. Chris was flanked from all sides by a dense crowd of his fellow half-time entertainers, the band geeks and the cheerleaders, Veronica included. The other students couldn’t smell months-old musk that permeated his suit, even when they were pressed right up against him. The suit was airtight, which meant that the smell had no means of escaping, but it also meant that Veronica was kept from getting a nose full of the offending odor.

Chris could just barely make out Veronica’s wild hair through the blurry grid that was his vision. His empty stomach released a guttural growl that echoed through the interior of his suit. The fanfare of the game was enough to drown it out. Besides, even if someone had heard the roar of his greedy gut above all the cheering and hollering, they would never be able to guess what, or rather who it was aching to be filled with.

Chris couldn’t see the game from where he sat, but he could hear it, the sound of the football player’s cleats pounding against the astroturf. It sounded less like the footsteps of high schoolers and more like a legion of horses rampaging across a field.

Chris found the cacophonous symphony of the game strangely soothing. It drowned out the chatter of the cheerleaders, and the sound of the band kids fiddling with their instruments in anticipation of their performance.

He glanced over at Veronica, just in time to catch her flashing her signature smile at a drummer. He couldn’t hear her, but he’d become adept at reading her lips, so he figured she was saying something like “I’m sure you’ll do great! You guys have been practicing for months!”

Oh, of course she’d be talking to some band geek instead of him. The drummer didn’t actually need reassurance, obviously, he was just fishing for her attention. How pathetic.

“Hey, come on, it’s almost halftime!” a tubist said, running out towards the field in formation with his other band members. The cheerleaders all formed up too, while Chris rose up from his bench, the girthy crocodile waddling out towards the field, Chris’s gaze fixed to his crimson-haired snack.

On cue, the band marched around the perimeter of the vast football field while wholeheartedly reciting their latest anthem. The cheerleaders pranced along the surface of the field, throwing their colorful pom-poms up in the air as they chanted and cheered for their respective teams - in the midst of the crowd of girls was Veronica, no doubt giving her performance her all. She cheered with gusto and energy, with enthusiasm practically radiating off of her form.

Chris shambled his way to the center of the field, occasionally turning to lazily wave to the crowd, though he didn’t let the swarm of zealous onlookers distract him from achieving his goal. Although the goofy crocodile mascot was making a straight beeline towards her, Veronica didn’t so much as pay him a passing glance as her focus was completely fixated on the crowd before her. Luckily for him, none of the other girls paid much mind to his movements as they unconsciously assumed the least of him.

Even when he was no more than a few inches away from her, Veronica didn’t notice until she felt a cheap, fuzzy surface scrape against her bare shoulder, admittedly elicited a surprised jolt out of her. Turning around, she came face-to-face with a pair of sagging jaws lined with shoddily-made foam teeth; past that was an ominous darkness, like a pitch-black void that swallowed any light leaking in from the outside. Despite this, she managed to muster up a bright smile.

“Oh, hi there, Charlie C. Crocodile!” She said, her voice a smidge louder than usual. “I bet you’re really enjoying the big game so far, huh? Our school’s football players have been working really hard to make sure this game will be the best of the century!”

Chris didn’t respond, instead remaining still and silent, and stayed in that position for a few awkward moments. However, he soon leaned in closer to the cheerleader to the point where the top of his felt jaws began to scrape over the curve of her scalp.

Veronica assumed this was part of the show.

“Whoops, look like he’s got me!” she said, intentionally leaning back into the costume’s mouth, unaware that she was speeding up the process of her own demise. In her mind, she would slip down into the suit through its mouth. The outfit was more than large enough for the both of them, so he would simply walk off stage, unzip his costume, and release her back out to finish her cheer routine, a fun gag successfully executed.

This wouldn’t be the case. Veronica’s nostrils stung as they were struck with a potent gust of Chris’s musk.

“Ugh, what’s that smell?” she said, her immediate revulsion overtaking her desire not to offend anyone. She could feel Chris’s face against the back of her head as she fell deeper into her suit. From the outside, only her legs were visible, sprouting up from the costume’s maw and kicking exaggeratedly.

“Sorry,” Veronica said. “It’s probably not your fault, cleaning a suit like this must be really hard. This was a good idea though, I think the crowd is really loving this.”

Veronica was met with silence, which wasn’t unusual for Chris. The feeling of humid breath against her neck, and something slimy and wet tracing its way up and down her scalp was, however.

“What the hell?”

Veronica wasn’t able to turn around in her current position, so she could only speculate about what was going on behind her. Then, she felt something close around the top of her head, and she realized she wasn’t falling towards the center of the costume, but further down.

She kept falling, deeper and deeper. The people in the stands didn’t suspect anything, they thought, like she had, that she was just going to fall into the suit.

It wasn’t until Veronica saw Chris’s lips sealing themselves around her neck that she realized she was being eaten for real.

Chris’s throat bulged with a round, bowling-ball sized protrusion. His lips, jaw, tongue, and throat worked in tandem along with gravity to push the cheerleader down, as she made her slow descent towards the young man’s stomach. Thick droplets of drool dripped down her face. She could only vaguely make out the flexing pink esophageal muscles in the darkness of Chris’s throat.

Veronica’s situation was so surreal, she didn’t know how to react other than to scream. And scream she did, letting out a desperate shriek, so powerful that unleashing it left her exhausted.

It wasn’t nearly enough. To reach the crowd, it would’ve needed to penetrate through Chris’s body, the costume, the booming instrument of the marching band, and the uproar of the crowd itself.

Veronica’s legs were sucked in through the crocodile’s mouth. Meanwhile, on the inside of the suit, she’d only been eaten up to her torso. Chris payed special attention to her plump breasts. Her nipples had become stiff involuntarily, bleeding through the thin fabric of her top. Chris prodded and flicked at them with his tongue for as long as he could, until her chest descended beyond his tongue and down into his throat.

Her midsection was next, her taut tummy left completely exposed by her crop top. While not as exciting as her breasts, the bare skin allowed Chris a chance to sample the flavor of her flesh.

He ran his tongue across the open skin. Her skin was like cream, pale, soft, and with an absolutely lovely texture as it glided across Chris’s tongue.

Chris’s lips reached the waistband of her skirt. With the most substantial parts of Veronica’s body already eaten, the rest would be easy. Her legs were long, but rather thin, and with a hearty slurp, they were absorbed into the hungry boy’s jaw.

One final gulp pushed the contents of his throat into his stomach, where Veronica landed in a pool of acids with a barely-audible plop.

Chris’s gut surged forwards as Veronica fell into it, swelling downwards and then outwards in all directions like an avalanche of flesh. The burgeoning sphere tore through the t-shirt Chris had on like a cannonball through a sheet of paper. Thin, tattered strips of white fabric still clung desperately to their wearer’s absurdly overstuffed gut.

Chris could only barely see his own stomach in the darkness of his own costume. He could see the silhouette of the bloated peach-colored ball sticking straight out from his midsection however, the way it shifted and bulged with Veronica’s movements.. The skin was stretched tight, tight enough that he saw the contours of Veronica’s screaming face and the knuckles of her wildly punching fists outlined by the flesh.

Despite how swollen his stomach was, it didn’t reach the edge of the suit’s own exaggeratedly distended belly, so once again, the audience was totally oblivious to what was going on within.

Chris ran a trembling hand over the tightly drawn skin. He could feel Veronica’s movements under his fingertips, as she struggled, in vain, to penetrate through the fleshy, dank prison of stomach acids, foul-smelling fumes and mostly-digested food she found herself in.okay so

Chris’ digestive system worked strikingly fast. The sloppy, putrid acids surrounding her wasted no time and quickly began to melt away at her bare flesh, being somewhat reminiscent of magma. Helplessly, the cheerleader writhed and choked upon sob after sob. The bubbling fluids, however, showed her not a shred of sympathy - to it, she was no different than any other meal the young man had eaten. The fleshy walls tightly pulsated and throbbed against her form, slowly yet surely tightening as her rank-smelling prison decreased in size.

Having spent all of her energy on fighting back against her predator, Veronica was unable to do much aside from sobbing into her legs as her body was swiftly digested into meaty sludge that settled at the very pit of his gut amidst scraps of half-digested clothing. With every intake of air, a revolting stench climbed into her throat and ate away at her lungs, which forced a series of hard coughs and gags out of her. However, she wasn’t able to suffer for much more as her exhaustion soon led to her falling unconscious, allowing the acids to claim her completely. Once an entire young woman, she was now reduced to a mass of meaty slush that slowly yet surely tricked down into the length of his bowels.

With her demise, the once full and heavy mass of flesh that protruded from his midsection now decreased in size ever so slightly. The indents of her features melted into his stomach, giving it a smoother and more curved appearance. While still quite large, it had traded it’s firm and stretched surface for a softened, almost plush feel. With every movement Chris gave, his bloated belly rippled and swayed in a manner quite reminiscent of gelatin, as did the sloppy sludge within his stomach.

With a sickeningly satisfied smirk plastered on his face, he reared his head back and allowed a deafening belch to rip past his throat. The rotten cloud of gas had an acidic tinge to it, smelling heavily of digested meat among other things wafting around in the stinking depths of his gut. The horrible stink previously expelled didn’t bother leaking into the outside world, instead opting to linger in the stuffy costume; Chris, however, didn’t mind. If anything, he relished in the smelly aftermath of his little victory.

A pressure began to poke at his rear end, a familiar sort of feeling that he didn’t wish to ignore. After issuing a small grunt, his body tensed up, and a bubbling stream of potent gas came rushing out of his pursed anus. The gassy release was moist and heavy, quickly filling the interior of the baggy costume. A heavy sigh of relief rumbled past Chris’ lips, followed by numerous eager whiffs of the noxious fog encased around him. His ass was relentless, continuously pushing out meaty fart after fart amidst a handful of occasional burps.

With every loud, bubbling release, the mascot’s internal atmosphere only got worse; not even two minutes had passed, and it already held a stench very much akin to a rotting landfill on a particularly hot day. Such a humid environment elicited a thin layer of sweat to manifest along the exterior of his body, adding a strong yet salty tinge to the gaseous air occupying the felt costume. To any other person, spending more than a mere moment within the confines of the crocodile costume would’ve elicited a nauseous reaction, but Chris felt nothing but pride in regards to the stinky, thick fog.

Soon enough, something more solid began to prod at his clenched asshole, which prompted it to yawn open. Upon tugging his boxers down to his knees, a thick snake composed of brown sludge began to slither out of his body. It was heavy, and immediately began to weigh the suit down as soon as it scraped against a solid surface. The brown log oozed out of his ass at a steady pace, quickly filling up the rear of the costume in the form of a steaming mound. Chris pushed and heaved the massive amount of shit out of his bowels, working his way around the undigested scraps of bone and cloth that poked out of the dark sludge.

As his former target flowed from his anus and spiralled in-between his partially spread legs, Chris reached downwards and gripped the base of his hardening cock which was no doubt just as excited about the situation as he was. He ran his tightened fist along the throbbing length, tugging on it with multiple pleasured grunts and gasps amidst a handful of mumbled vulgarities.

Naturally, this only intensified the already near-deadly stench that reigned dominant in the baggy costume, adding another layer of thick heat and stink that would be enough to knock out even the most hulking jocks. And yet, after what seemed like quite a while, the last bit of shit clogging his insides soon slipped out. In synchronization with this, his building orgasm had reached its absolute peak; like an erupting volcano, thick semen gushed from the tip of his dick and sprayed along the inner fabric. A primal moan of pleasure rose from the depths of his chest, soon devolving into a series of exasperated pants.

With a sadistic grin, Chris fixed his posture and turned to the crowd; each and every one of them stared on, none the wiser as to what horrendous deeds had happened within the depths of the cartoony mascot suit.

The cheerleaders were completely oblivious to the fact that their friend had been devoured too, churned up into sludge and then ejected out of a cute boy’s tight asshole. The costumed cannibal waddled off stage to a surge of applause and laughter.

“Hey, great job!” one of the cheerleaders said, unaware that a steaming load of her friend was currently swaying around between the legs of the person inside that suit.

Chris made a beeline for the locker room, and his awkward, lumbering gait got him there eventually. He burst through the locker room door, flicking on the lights.

It was empty, obviously, nobody had any reason to be there during the game. He removed the helmet of his suit first, letting that revolting odor leak into the air, until it quickly filled the entire room. The lingering fog of sweat and axe body spray was no much for the overpowering scent of Chris’s feted gas or the cooling pile of shit that used to be Veronica.

The body suit came next. Chris simply unzipped it, and stepped out of it, surprisingly clean considering all that’d happened within the confines of the suit. Then, he stuffed the head into the body through the next hole, scooping up the entire costume into his arms and hurling it into the nearby janitor’s closet.

And Chris was never seen again, at least, not at that particular school. He started college in another state, where there would no doubt be plenty more pretty girls to devour.

Meanwhile, a beleaguered janitor had to decide what to make of a shit-filled crocodile suit that smelled like hell itself.


End file.
